


amuse bouche

by iniquiticity



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Evil Wizard Dinner Party, F/F, Rank-Related Flirting, niche content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:47:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26521657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iniquiticity/pseuds/iniquiticity
Summary: "Thank you so much for joining me, my lady," DeRogna said, sitting across from her, hiding the intricate carvings on the wooden chair and the delicate embroidery of the comfortable cushions up it, "I was worried that things would not be able to move forward.""In what way can I be of assistance for you, Archmage?" Astrid asked.
Relationships: Astrid/Vess DeRogna
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	amuse bouche

Even now Astrid was entertained by the incongruities of the dinner. They sat in a large-windowed chamber with glittering mosaics along the floor and stained windows letting in the last golden light of the sun, and they ate with cutlery and dishware that she could not, without a more impolite investigation, understand what the material was. The room felt airy despite the small size of it; it reminded her a bit of eating dinner on a back patio. A faint breeze that came from nowhere - the windows being closed - played comfortably along the back of her neck.

"Thank you so much for joining me, my lady," DeRogna said, sitting across from her, hiding the intricate carvings on the wooden chair and the delicate embroidery of the comfortable cushions up it, "I was worried that things would not be able to move forward."

DeRogna, of course, spoke fluent Zemnian, but Astrid could hear the places that marked the accent of it not being her first language. She did not have a full understanding of DeRogna's upbringings, only that she had been in Rexxentrumm as long as Astrid had known her. But she had elf blood, to which Astrid could confess some jealousy. She would live and die for much longer, and maybe her association with the Briarwoods had expanded that.

"Worried?" she asked, eyes flicking to the bottle of wine that DeRogna poured. Her senses, heightened in many places, detected no poison, enchantment, or magic about it, "Whyfor?"

DeRogna met her smile with a matching one. "A habit of mine," she said.

"It is my absolute honor to be invited, Archmage," Astrid said, bowing her head in her seat, "I consider it a personal failing you would suspect of me anything but an immediate acceptance."

It had, of course, been frustrating to convince Ikithon to let her go, and without his immediate eyes upon her. The old man was becoming madder than he had ever been, which was a feat, really. She, and everyone else, was very happy to pretend that they believed in the sham of the kind old man he preferred. Dealing with her master was even worse than the lengthy surveillances sometimes required for discovering and pruning rebel groups; out of the many faces she toyed with, the doting young pseudo-daughter was one of her least favorite. To Ikithon, this had been like some slumlord asking her to elope.

Although honestly it was not _so_ much different.

DeRogna seemed pleased with this answer and gestured to a servant, invisible to typical eyes, to serve them. She was sure there would be multiple courses. She was, after all, very much being courted. No matter how much of it was for show, it was all a vastly better experience than eating with Ikithon, who was still seething about the lost beacon, even if they had another one, months later.

It was tempting to ask Bren about it. All the strangeness he had come to be consumed by - making friends in the Dynasty - somehow it seemed perfectly believable he had been involved in the Zauber Spire attack, even if there wasn't any evidence.

"In what way can I be of assistance for you, Archmage?" Astrid asked. Better to stay formal. DeRogna had called her my lady, although she was not technically a lady. Being a vollstrecker was complicated if you cared about proper showing. Technically, she had no rank at all, and yet at the same time she answered to no one but the king himself, and Archmage Ikithon, and had on several occasions not even bothered with them. For the few people that were valuable and knowledgeable enough to know who she was, her name sufficed. DeRogna had clearly decided on a more flattering ranking. It was all a steaming pile of courting bullshit but it was, Astrid had to admit, exceptionally pleasant, and vastly, vastly, _vastly_ preferable to when Ikithon called her _pet_.

She took a sip of the wine. The light flavor burst on her tongue, deeply dry, and not a hint of the earthy peatiness she disliked in alcohol. This was served with a small, brightly-colored soup. She picked up the smallest spoon - the mystery metal was cool and smooth, although it had a matte finish to it. It took her a moment to place the flavor of the soup at first. Kurrak. All the way from Ank'Harel?

To show wealth? Astrid wondered, and then decided - No. This was about being exotic and well-travelled. She had been all over the world in her journeys as vollstrecker, hunting threats. It was an appeal to that nature of travel, which she enjoyed. DeRogna, she knew, was primarily obsessed with Xhorhas. Like Bren, these days, it seemed. The savagewoman, they had decided, was from the wastes.

DeRogna was talking. "I understand that this invitation is somewhat unusual, and I hope no unpleasantness was caused."

"Again, Archmage," she said, bowing her head once more, "It was a delightful surprise. Please do not feel you've caused me any inconvenience."

"Vess, please," DeRogna said, and only professionalism kept Astrid's eyebrows from rising. Even in the earliest days of gathering their loyalty, when she truly had thought Ikithon was the world, he had not laid it on so thick. Was she desperate?

"Astrid, then."

"Astrid," DeRogna said, and Astrid found it only slightly unpleasant, for her name to be said by this woman. For all intents and purposes, DeRogna was her enemy, because she was Ikithon's enemy. It was dangerous, for your enemies to be calling you by your name. But it was her plan that Ikithon's enemies no longer would be hers - which wasn't to say she was suddenly going to decide Ludius Da'leth wasn't a demon snake from the hells - so maybe it was less offensive than it should have been.

"As you know, there is a digsite in Pride's Call where the Luxon Beacon was discovered, and archeological activity is ongoing."

"I'm aware of such activity," she said, and, deciding DeRogna would have already known if she had been interested, "Although it is not a primary focus of mine or my master's." She would have to bring up Ikithon eventually, and this seemed as good as any time. She took another sip of the wine and wished it was not a sign of weakness to ask where the wine came from. It was delicious.

It was not entirely true; while she was not particularly interested in the site, Ikithon felt that the beacon belong to him because the previous one had been lost (while he had been there, he seemed to never add), and as a result had politely nodded along to a rant or two on the subject, had been dispatched to the site once and, for reasons explained only by the uselessness of bureaucracy, been sent copies of a few reports that she had not been asked for about it, which she had not read. 

A thin, unpleasant smile creased DeRogna's lips as she sipped her own wine; she probably knew the visit had occurred, and Ikithon's gripe about the beacon. "Does it interest you at all?" she asked.

"My interest in it is as much as my master, and the Empire, would wish it," Astrid replied. That was suitably obsequious, she thought; courting or no courting, there was no reason to discuss your interests with anyone and especially not Vess DeRogna.

DeRegona's eyebrow went up; she was not stupid enough to know she was not being fed more bullshit. She took another sip of her wine, and ate more of the soup, evidently gathering herself from this rebut.

"I'm sure you are a very busy woman," DeRogna said, "So I would not wish to request your consult in a matter you would find dull."

 _Consult_ was an interesting choice. DeRogna was a higher rank than her; she could, theoretically, order Astrid to do something, although perhaps her orders would fall into the mysterious hole that Ludinus Da'leth's did, whenever he attempted to. Was he sure he had sent her that Message? But all of this - maybe _request_ actually meant request, and not when Ikithon said _do you want to_?_

"Should you request my services, I would be happy to find time to assist you," Astrid said. The unseen servant took her empty soup bowl away along with the mostly-empty wine glass and was setting up new placeware. "The digsite, of course, is of great importance to the Empire, and thus is of great importance to me, though my assignments have not been relevant to it, recently." Though there was always insurgent activity around artifacts, and not to mention the Cobalt Soul, as frustrating as they usually were. Pride's Call, however, was not a particularly rebellious or dangerous city.

DeRogna's smiled turned slightly less unpleasant - someone ignorant would have called it friendlier - and she looked over to the servant that was bringing wonderfully-smelling covered plates out.

"The last thing I wish to do is to give you another unpleasant obligation, Astrid," DeRogna said, as the plates were set in front of them and their wines were refilled with another white. "I'm sure there are many interactions you'd clear from your schedule if you were able to, and I have no desire to be one of those."

She thought about rebutting this obvious dig at Ikithon, despite its truth. There was no reason to be obvious about her distaste for him, though DeRogna had evidently picked it up - perhaps because she'd entertained the invitation at all.

No, she decided. Let DeRogna think, at least, that she could be some type of available or discontent. Let DeRogna think it was worth it, to ply her with Kurrak soup and grilled fish - quite a distance from their landlocked city - and even more impressive, Xhorhassian rice. It was worth it for the meal if absolutely nothing else.

"I'd have to know more about this obligation before I could say how pleasant I might find it," she said, instead, reaching for the strange-metal fork.

"I don't know much about the process of your tasks," DeRogna said, mildly, which made Astrid much more interested, "Is it challenging to rearrange your schedule, when such things come to your notice?"

_Are you going to have to get permission from him?_

It was a complicated question. On one hand, there generally wasn't a good reason to lie or obfuscate her itinerary to Ikithon - despite everything she was not yet at the place where he had completely outlived his usefulness, and there was no reason to upset his belief that she was still his star pupil who thought the world resolved around him. That included being clear about where she thought she would be, and to generally update him when plans changed; she couldn't remember the last time he had rejected some travel she had upcoming, even if there sometimes was arguing. This included, of course, assignment from King Dwendal, who could overrule Ikithon - in which cases, she was always so apologetic, that she was of course first and foremost a servant of the king's will, as she had been forged by her master to be.

On the other hand, she was probably much less likely to hear a full and interesting story about this Pride's Call errand depending on how much of it was going to get back to Ikithon. DeRogna wasn't the worst choice for someone to serve, although she would have preferred Zivan, the Soltryce Headmaster, if such a thing became necessary. Even as the Archmage of Civil Influence she would much prefer have DeRogna as something vaguely resembling an ally rather than an enemy. 

"Like all things, it depends on the extensiveness of the detour," she decided on. Let DeRogna see her as a hard sell, if she wanted. DeRogna had a whole department of staff, including professional archeologists, that she could dispatch on this errand. Let her try to get Astrid, whose skills were not generally in that realm, if that's what she really wanted.

DeRogna made a soft noise of disagreement, her eyes taking Astrid.

"The fish is absolutely spectacular," Astrid said, instead of commenting further. It was delicious, flaky and buttery and perfectly cooked, filled with subtle seasoning combinations. It was complex - not the sort of meal Ikithon preferred, when they ate together. "Does it originate from the Frigid Depths or the Menagerie Coast? How did you maintain the freshness?"

"It's a blue-bellied icefin, from the Frigid Depths from the north," DeRogna answered, looking just a bit more pleased with her approval, "A small number of them are magically transported to expedite the process."

What a wasteful use of magical energy, Astrid thought, and sad excuse for a job. She pondered the academy wizard that, upon graduating, learned that she would be teleporting fish for excessively rich nobles.

"Extraordinary," she said, "And this is Xhorhassian rice?" She had been to Xhorhas a time or two, and seen the lengthy rice paddies, and had been impressed despite herself.

"Of the flooded long-grain variety, which I find to be the best."

She contemplated the likely loyalty to the Empire of someone who had a preference between multiple types of Xhorhassian rice, then set that thought aside for later. DeRogna was known to disappear off to Xhorhas, rice or otherwise, and even hung that awful painting of the wastes in one of her seating rooms.

"You have exotic and exquisite tastes, Vess."

DeRogna smiled. "I would never deny that Rexxentrumm is the loveliest city in Exandria, but to me some of that loveliness is in its diversity, to which I strive to continue to infuse it with." 

"I must beg ignorance, were you born within our most magnificent walls?" 

"I was." 

Astrid bent her head to keep working on her meal. She had pure Zemnian blood; no matter where Vess was born, she could never be Zemnian like she and Bren were. "I myself am a product of the Zemni Fields." 

"Your family must be very proud." 

Astrid took a drink of her wine and placed the glass down silently. Her eyes scanned the lean lines of Vess' face. It could not be a dig - not when she was trying so hard to impress Astrid. Did she not know? She must have never asked. 

"They gave their lives for the Empire when I first came into Master Ikithon's service." 

DeRogna made a perfectly sympathetic face. She must have not known. What a fool, Astrid thought. 

"I'm so sorry." 

"There is nothing to be sorry for, Vess. They made me stronger with their passing." 

It was true. Even after she learned it had been a test, she wouldn't have taken it back. One could never be as tempered as she needed to be without such pressure. 

There were a few minutes of eating in silence; Vess plotting her next move, certainly. Trying to recover from the misstep. Their empty plates were taken away, along with glasses.

"The truth is,” DeRogna said, contrite, “That while I have the services of many experts, I”m trying to solve a personnel problem, which is more of your expertise.” 

Oh, she thought. 

“Yes,” Astrid said, and smiled, just a little, “I confess that I am not an archaeologist by trade, but social matters are a speciality of mine.”

“I have some concern that the information about the Luxon Beacon is not staying as secure as the empire would like.” 

Astrid let the smile take up a little bit more of her face. The idea of finding some traitor around a Luxon Beacon was a much more pleasant thought than what she’d originally thought would come of this. She didn’t need to be played with magically transported fish. The thought of taking apart some spy whetted her appetite ten times over. Some dynasty scum out there that was her prey. 

It was also a much easier sell to Ikithon; all she would have to say was that a source tipped her off. Which was true.

“I cannot permit that,” Astrid said. There was another course that was coming out which was revealed to be a small salad. Cabbages. Actual Zemnian food. Coming around full circle - committing to her people, to their country. They had gone on a nice little tour and were relieved to come home. “It was a good idea for you to come to me with this, Vess. There will be no trouble in rearranging my schedule to dispose of leaks.” 

“I need not to express to you how important discretion is in this matter.” 

“You do not.” 

“Wonderful.” Vess smiled and ate her salad. Astrid worked on hers. It was simple, but the ingredients were fresh, reminded her of home, perfectly prepared and exquisitely ripened. A palate cleanser. You would think someone who found the abysmal wastes of Xhorhas interesting wouldn’t have such good taste in food. “I know you’ve spoken about how honored you were, but the honor is mine to be permitted to borrow your abilities, if only for a moment.” 

“I am a servant of the empire, Vess,” Astrid said, “That you direct me to do the work I am made for is not a borrow at all.” 

Vess tilted her head, obviously hearing it for what it was: because I do not belong to anyone. She took a sip of a different wine, and Astrid did so as well. Despite that it was obviously a bad idea to not be completely focused in a meeting with someone so dangerous, it was a lot of wine, and it was all so spectacular, and Vess was not really her enemy in the way most people were. 

“How promptly can you leave?” 

“I will need a few days to arrange my affairs.” Convincing Ikithon probably wouldn’t be much of an effort, but she wanted to check on Bren’s friends and there were a few other loose ends in the city before she spent too much time outside of it. “I can send you a message when I’m leaving?” 

Vess let the servant take her empty salad plate away. She looked at her empty place setting for a moment or two, and then focused intently on Astrid. “Is it too much of an inconvenience to invite you to return?” 

There was a beat. Another plate. This one with a rich, tall chocolate cake, layered with whipped cream and cherries. Of course. How many of these had Astrid had, every moment? Certainly Vess didn’t know how her parents had scraped and scrounged and gone hungry, one year, for the supplies for a gateau for her birthday. How classically Zemnian. No matter where we go, she might have said, we always come back here. 

Astrid took that gaze in. She had the sense of being studied, maybe like she was some fossil or mysterious relic. There were, she thought with a little entertainment, carved with runes and symbols that meant something, if you knew what you were looking at. If you peered at her from the perspective of a different civilization maybe you would wonder what the lines on her skin meant. It was not only that, though. One did not become a superior vollstrecker without being able to read someone else’s face, no matter what they did to obscure themselves. The line of interest on Vess’ brow, the slight tilt of her body forward. 

She smiled. “I would consider it a great honor, that I have performed adequately enough to be invited back.” A sourceless magical light infused the chamber with the sun having faded, eliminating the long shadows they had been casting against the floor. She thought about stepping out of Ikithon’s. 

She had spent very little time with DeRogna before this. Easy enough to reverse the story to her master - that she had heard something about Pride’s Call and was forced to tell DeRogna about it. She suppressed the laugh thinking about it. Brought on by the wine, for sure. A sip of a different-shaped glass that she recognized, even prepared for the richness of the port struck her in a wonderful way. The chocolate of the cake deep, rich, and heavy. 

“Let me know when I can be honored by your attendance. I understand that such repeated arrangements can be complicated and I am happy to accommodate.” 

Astrid set down the fork quietly enough for it to not make a sound; she considered stealing it, if only to know what it was made of, then reconsidered. Vess would tell her, in time. She left the port half-drunk despite how good it was. No need to show desperation, after all. 

“You have been so accommodating already, Vess.” 

DeRogna smiled. “It is a joy of mine, to continue to be, to such a capable servant of the empire.” A beat, and then she stood, and Astrid followed. The legs of the chair were noiseless as she settled it under the table. 

“Let me walk you to the door, if only for pleasure your company.” 

“Of course.” 

There were fewer steps going down than there had been going up, Astrid was sure. She thought idly about what her tower would be like, when she had one. It would be the sort of place you could be lost in forever, if she willed you to be. The thought of would-be invaders, disoriented and despairing, made her skin hum. There was a perfect quiet, without even any footsteps on the stone floor. None from her ever, of course; her boots made it so. She wondered about it for Vess.

DeRogna stood too close for it to be accidental, and she touched Astrid’s hip as they stood in front of the door. She was accustomed to people being a full head taller than her, and DeRogna merely numbered upon that group. Let them have to look down to see her. All the craned necks in the world, to take her in. 

“I enjoyed this very much,” DeRogna said. 

“Me too,” Astrid replied, “More than I expected to, in the interest of honesty.” 

DeRogna did not quite laugh, but Astrid saw it in the twinkle in her eye. “No greater honor than that,” she said, and bowed her head as a farewell. Astrid lifted her hands, bringing the magic to bear. Was it a bit much, to be teleporting to her house not too far away? Certainly not, when appearances mattered. With a flash she was outside the home Ikithon had given her. She thought, longingly, of a future tower that was hers and hers alone. She could invite DeRogna to her tower, she thought, with a secret smile.


End file.
